


I'll Be Home for Christmas

by roman_antics



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, entirely too much kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:26:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5413313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roman_antics/pseuds/roman_antics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas and they're home.</p><p>(Inspired by Louis being excited about arriving [emoji] home and looking incredible doing so and the probable fluffy Christmas decorating that most likely took place afterward.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This is very short and very fluffy and is dedicated to the two loves of my life.

The smell of cinnamon candles hit him the second he steps through the door. Louis takes a deep breath as soon as he’s in the entryway and the only thing he can think is _home_.

He’s finally _home_ for the first time in months and this time it’s for more than two nights. He’s home where it looks like home and smells like home and feels like home and all he wants is to cuddle up with Harry in their big, soft bed and sleep for the next three days.

These thoughts are quickly interrupted by a big ball of boy rushing down the stairs and into his arms, hardly giving him any time to drop his bags by the door before wrapping his arms around Harry as tightly as possible. Sure, it’d only been about 20 hours since they’d seen one another but now they’re both _home together_ for more than a day.

“Missed you,” Harry mumbles into his neck and is answered with Louis’ fond laughter and a kiss to the cheek. He squeezes him tight before Harry starts planting a series of quick kisses to his neck.

“Let me at least get out of my bloody coat first,” Louis says, disentangling their limbs and making quick work of coat zipper and tugging it off, dropping it on the floor. Harry’s back on him as soon as it hits the ground, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Louis’ hair, cautious of the snapback perched there.

He comes closer, as if that’s even possible, and attaches their lips for the first time. Harry holds tight to his hair as Louis’ hands wrap around Harry to hold him close. Their kisses vary between deep and slow to rough and biting, teeth clanking through their smiles. Harry whispers _missed you_ ’s and _welcome_ _home_ ’s and _love_ _you_ ’s against his lips, grinning each time he realizes his boy is _home_.

Louis starts to slowly walk Harry backwards into the living room, lips never detaching from the other. They make it into the room and collapse on the plush sofa, Louis pulling Harry on his lap with hands still roaming each other’s bodies and lips parting only to breathe and murmur sweet declarations of love and warmth.

Harry shifts above him, plucking Louis’ snapback from his head and putting it on his own. Louis mocks indignation and is only met with Harry smirking down at him with the hat slightly askew and his long, dark curls spilling out from underneath.

As he leans back in to steal another kiss, he catches sight of something very big and very green in the corner of the room. He vaguely hears Harry’s sad whine when he turns his head away from his lips and focuses his attention on the _massive_ Christmas tree that was obviously recently placed there, judging by the bare branches and lack of any type of decoration.

“H,” he whispers, “when’d that get there, babe?”

He turns back to look at Harry who’s beaming down at him. “Got it today,” he starts, “while I was waiting for you to get home. Went with Gems.”

He plants a kiss on the tip of Louis’ nose, both his cheeks, and makes his way down to quickly peck at his lips. “Don’t be mad I didn’t wait for you. Wanted to surprise you and have it ready for when you got home,” he says, biting his lip.

“It’s perfect, it fits. You did good, love,” Louis says, alternating his glances between Harry’s smiling face and the tree.

“Gemma thought it’d be too big for the room but I knew it would be just right. I got us another smaller one for our room, too. Picked up some more ornaments and new lights and everything.”

“Then what are we still doing out here?” Louis asks excitedly. The words are barely out of his mouth before Harry is jumping of his lap and pulling Louis up by the hand, dragging him toward the kitchen where he’d left the new decorations.

“I got the prettiest ones they had,” Harry says, beaming and pulling Louis along with him. He pulls individual boxes out one by one, lining them up on the table before opening them up. They’re gold and red with different patterns and designs but all just as beautiful as the last. “Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful, H, they’ll look amazing,” Louis tells him. “I’ll go pull the box of decorations from the closet. Go ahead and get started on those and I’ll be right back.”

Harry begins unloading his new finds in the living room on the coffee table next to the tree and Louis comes back in with a large, open box filled to the brim with lights, garland, ornaments, tinsel, and whatever other decorations they had stashed away from last year. He sets the box down before turning to the stereo system and plugging in Harry’s phone, already set to a Christmas station.

Louis pecks Harry’s lips quickly before digging into the box and pulling out a tree skirt and a strand of lights. They string lights and hang ornaments as they dance around to Santa Baby and steal lazy, lingering kisses from each other before grabbing another sparkly gold ball to hang. Before they know it the tree is filled with sparkly new orbs and a fair number of nostalgic ornaments from their previous Christmases together.

Louis jumps onto Harry’s back to reach the top of the tree to hang the shimmering star and wiggles it to make sure it’s steady. They step back to admire their work with arms wrapped around each other when Harry pulls himself away and grabs his shopping bag from earlier. He pulls out another box gently and hands it to Louis.

“I had it made a while ago and was going to wait until Christmas to give it to you but I couldn’t wait. It’s my favorite of them all,” he says as he waits for Louis to open it. He pops the lid and fumbles with the bubble wrap before uncovering a mini replica of their house.

It’s beautiful and simplistic and perfect. The date is written on the plaque at the bottom with tiny hearts filling up the small plate. It’s charming and loving and so completely Harry.

“You’re my home. No matter where we are, what we’ve built here is our home. Anywhere with you is home, but especially here,” Harry says. His eyes are boring straight into Louis’ when he looks up from the delicate house in his hands.

“It’s perfect, H. You’re perfect,” he says before surging forward to meet Harry’s mouth, hoping to show his gratefulness and love and pride through his kiss. “Thank you,” he mutters against his lips.

“Hang it up, babe. Pick a good spot,” says a grinning Harry.

He givesHarry’s hand a quick squeeze and walks to a bare spot on the tree to hang the ornament. Harry grabs his hand again before placing a kiss to his temple.

“Beautiful,” he whispers. Louis hums in agreement, looking intently at the tree in front of them before turning to look at Harry, only to realize he wasn’t talking about the tree at all if the way he was staring straight at Louis was any indication.

He rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh before declaring “cookie time!” and guiding them out of the room towards the kitchen. After digging through cupboards and drawers, they can only come up with leftover slice and bake chocolate chip cookies with Halloween designs on the package. After realizing half the dough will be eaten before it makes it onto the baking sheet, they figure they can save official Christmas cookie baking for another day.

Louis hops onto the counter and eats the bits of dough Harry feeds him as he places them on the cookie sheet. After the cookies are set in the oven, Harry moves in between Louis’ knees and runs his hands along his thighs. “So glad you’re home. _We’re_ home,” he says before kissing Louis deep and slow. Their tongues slide together and Harry releases a quiet, breathy whine and kisses harder.

After a few minutes, Harry murmurs a “dance with me” against his neck as Michael Bublé’s “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” plays softly through the speakers in the other room. He pulls Louis off the counter and Louis steps gently onto Harry’s toes covered in his endearingly ugly slippers he’s so proud of. He looks up to him with a blinding grin and is met with a near identical expression.

Harry sets off swaying them back and forth to the rhythm of the song before slowly staring to spin them around the kitchen. Louis feels, rather than hears, Harry humming along to the song with his head resting on his chest. He steps off Harry’s toes and back onto the floor. He stands on his tiptoes and reaches his arms around Harry’s neck, nudging against the bill of the snapback he still has turned around backwards on his head. “I love you so much.” His whisper gets cut short by Harry’s lips pressing tightly against his.

The lazy press of their lips is interrupted by the timer going off and the smell of warm cookies filling the kitchen. Louis steps back to let Harry pull the tray from the oven and busies himself with finding a bottle of wine and glasses.

“Cookies and wine for dinner, huh?” Harry asks with a chuckle.

“Only the best Christmas dinner for my boy,” Louis replies, brandishing the glasses he managed to find at the back of the cupboard. He pours both glasses as Harry places the cookies on a plate and they both carry their contribution to their dinner back into the living room.

They settle into the sofa with their glasses and a cookie in hand. Louis’ head finds its home on Harry’s chest again. Harry threads his fingers through Louis’ wispy before his hand makes his way down to his chest. Louis pulls down the throw from the back of the sofa to cover them and burrows himself underneath.

The lights on the tree are blurred by their tired eyes as they’re lulled to sleep by Bublé’s crooning through the speakers and the light brushes of hands running over each other.

When Harry wakes up several hours later he spots the little house ornament hung snugly in the center of the softly-lit Christmas tree and hugs Louis closer to him. And the only thing running through his mind is _home_.


End file.
